


dancing in a swirl of golden memories (the loveliest lies of all)

by ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat



Series: Wash Away the Rain (Winter Soldier AU) [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Deceit is the Winter Soldier, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Swearing, Team Let Virgil Say Fuck, The Duke is also the Winter Soldier, Winter Soldier AU, rip spooky trash bot jr., robot sacrifice, well not anymore I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27298363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat/pseuds/ThreeCrowsInATrenchcoat
Summary: Nothing had changed in the few days he’d been gone, not really. The walls were still grey. The ceiling was still made up of fiberboard tiles. The lights were still the same sterile fluorescents. But it felt different, to Janus.To Deceit, the headquarters was his primary base of operations. It was where every mission started, and where every mission ended. Brief, mission, debrief. Deceit always returned here. In a way, this was where Deceit himself was born.To Deceit, this was home.But to Janus, the grey walls were sickly, and the fluorescent lights gave him a headache. This wasn’t a place of safety to Janus; this was a place he needed to leave behind him forever.(or: the boys storm the headquarters, and this story's first chapter finally comes to a close)
Series: Wash Away the Rain (Winter Soldier AU) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929958
Comments: 10
Kudos: 46





	dancing in a swirl of golden memories (the loveliest lies of all)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! This is a direct continuation of parts 1 through 4 of this series. Please read those first!
> 
> Please check the tags. This story involves discussion of missing/untrustworthy memories, implied torture and brainwashing, and just general Dealing With Trauma stuff. There is some actual violence in this one. Some fight scenes, guns, blood and injury, but nothing graphic. Feel free to ask for more details if a particular tag worries you.
> 
> Enjoy!

He had been unmade.

He was Janus. But then they reached into his brain and dug out as much of Janus as they could find. Every happy memory, every heartbreak; every moment that defined _Janus_. They pulled it all out of him like they were removing a tumor. As if Janus was nothing more than a cancerous growth that threatened to consume the one they actually wanted. 

Deceit. It was the name they gave to the person that was left after all of Janus had been scooped out. Nothing more than a collection of skills and conditioned obedience. A killer, who went where he was aimed because that was his only purpose. Barely even a person, and certainly not treated as one. 

But now he was Janus again. Or was he? Was there even enough of Janus in him still? So much of Janus had been left behind on the operating table; on the walls of the room he’d tried so hard to claw his way out of; on the weapons and bare knuckles they’d beaten him with until Janus could take no more, and had disappeared beneath the protective cloak of Deceit. 

But if Deceit was just him with pieces of Janus removed, and he wasn’t Deceit anymore… who was he? Would he ever be Janus again? Or was he forever doomed to this fractured state of being? 

\- - -

Janus woke in a cold sweat when a single, choked cry tore itself from his throat. His head felt like it was being split open from the inside, like his brain itself was trying to crawl out of his skull. 

Images swirled across his mind. Ghosts, phantoms that he couldn’t be sure were real memories, or just lies conjured by a broken brain trying desperately to be whole again. But mixed in among those were the memories he _knew_ were real. Deceit’s memories. 

And those were worse. 

A light came on in the hallway, and Janus winced. He’d woken somebody. Or maybe they’d been awake this whole time. Listening, waiting for him to break. Wondering how long it would take. 

That was Deceit talking, and Janus tried to ignore it. But he couldn’t stop the tremble in his hands, nor the way they grasped the soft blanket like it was a lifeline. Like it was the only thing keeping him from tumbling off the edge and into some bottomless abyss.

Maybe it was. 

Virgil appeared in the doorway to the livingroom. He was backlit by the hallway light, so Janus couldn’t make out his expression. But when he spoke, his voice was laced with concern.

“Janus? Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes. Quite alright.” The lie tasted sour in his mouth. But he knew the truth would taste worse. 

“Are you sure?” Virgil sounded skeptical. He stepped into the livingroom, and as he approached, Janus could see he was frowning. 

“I…” His throat felt dry. He swallowed, then forced out, “A bad dream is all. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

Virgil had reached the couch, and he paused there at the opposite leg of the L-shaped sofa. He almost looked like someone trying to psych themself up to do something daring, or stupid, or both.

“Do you… uh… do you, like, want to talk about it?”

Ah. Both, then. 

“No,” Janus said quickly. Firmly. Without even the slightest quiver to his voice. 

(Or so he told himself. Why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking?)

Virgil seemed to grapple with a thought for some time. Janus looked down at his hands and willed them to loosen their grip on the blanket. They would not listen. Then, he felt the couch dip, and he glanced up to see Virgil had sat down on the leg of the L that was unoccupied. He looked slightly uncomfortable. 

“You don’t have to talk. If you don’t want to,” Virgil started. “It… always helps me, though.” When Janus didn’t respond, Virgil leaned back into the couch cushions and continued, “When I first got out of the army, I was a mess. I was living with Logan, but we’d only just met. I kept waking up in the middle of the night convinced I was somewhere else. I honestly thought Logan was going to kick me out if he found out.”

Janus glanced up at him, wary. But Virgil wasn’t looking at him, just staring off into the gloom. He had a faint smile on his face. 

“He found out pretty quickly. I mean, it was a shitty apartment with thin walls. I woke up screaming one night, and I think he thought I was being murdered or something,” Virgil chuckled. “But, uh. Once he figured out what was going on, he just sat with me. Talked about astronomy for a few hours, until I could go back to sleep.”

“That would put me to sleep, too,” Janus drawled. Talking didn’t hurt this time. Virgil glanced over at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Ok, sure. You probably don’t remember it, but you were a goddamn philosophy nerd in high school, so don’t give me that.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at _all_.” 

“The point is, things are gonna suck for a while. But I’m here for you. I’ll help you, whatever you need.”

“Why?” The word slipped out, and Virgil gave him a startled look.

“Um, because you need help?” he responded. “Or how about because you’re my friend?”

At that, Janus flinched. The pounding in his head intensified. “But I can’t remember.”

Virgil seemed to hesitate, glancing down as he picked at the hem of his hoodie. Janus pulled the blanket more tightly around him. He knew it was a soft blanket, but now it felt scratchy against his bare hands. 

He shouldn’t have said it. He shouldn’t have said anything to remind Virgil that the Janus sitting there in front of him wasn’t the same Janus from the photo he still kept hidden in his pocket. And he may never be again.

“That’s ok,” Virgil said. His voice was quiet, but spoken with a razor-sharp intensity that tore through Janus’ swirling thoughts. “I mean, yeah, maybe you can’t remember now, but-”

“I may not remember _ever_ ,” Janus said. “I may… I may be too far gone.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you never remember, Janus. We’ll fill the gaps with new memories.” Virgil paused. Then he looked over, catching Janus’ eye, and he looked so determined. He added, “I won’t abandon you again.”

Janus’ mouth went dry, but his mind couldn’t piece together anything to say anyway. So he just nodded. And Virgil nodded back. And then Virgil started talking, these long-winded paragraphs about math and physics and something to do with robots.

But Janus didn’t hear most of it. He had already slipped off into a dreamless sleep.

\- - -

The hardest part about the whole thing, in Virgil’s opinion, was the waiting. 

Cause, after it was decided that they were actually doing this completely fucking harebrained disaster of a thing, every part of him just screamed “go go go, get it done!” The longer he had to wait, the more he over thought it. The more his brain tried to talk him out of it. 

Patton made them wait. “Janus is hurt pretty bad, you gotta let him heal,” he’d said. And sure, it was a valid point from an actual real medical professional, yadda yadda whatever. Virgil didn’t necessarily disagree, but he wanted to do this thing as soon as possible. And Janus insisted he was more than capable of action; he’d even said he had operated with worse on more than one occasion. That did not achieve the intended effect, though, and Patton had cried his way through the last of the chocolate chip cookies after hearing it. 

So they compromised. Patton said it could take weeks for Janus to be fully healed up, and they all knew they didn’t have weeks. They might not even have _one_ week. So they settled for three days. 

It wasn’t just Janus who needed time, of course. Logan spent the first day holed up in his room. Virgil had knocked on his door around lunch time to see if he was hungry, and had received only the sound of frenzied typing in return. Finally, around dinner time, Logan emerged, his eyes a little bloodshot, but with a triumphant expression on his face. Then he rattled off a bunch of technobabble that Virgil barely managed to translate to the others as “he’s got all the programs he needs up and running, all that’s left is to get him inside to their servers.” And Logan nodded approvingly, so Virgil figured his translation was close enough.

The next day, Virgil and Logan had sat down with Janus and dragged out of him every single detail Janus could give about the headquarters. Layout, personnel, supplies; anything Janus could tell them. Logan wrote it all down word-for-word. And on the third day, they made a plan. 

It wasn’t necessarily the best plan, but it was about as good of a plan as they were gonna get. And the plan was actually quite simple, at least on paper, and it only required the sacrifice of one Spooky Trash Bot Jr., and a handful of the half-functioning prototype robots that cluttered the attic. (Patton had protested, but it was for the greater good.)

The headquarters was in the basement of an old warehouse at the edge of town- which, as Roman was quick to point out, was really cliche. Janus could only recall there being one point of entry and thus only one point of exit, which, frankly, was an alarming piece of information. It meant that if shit hit the fan, they were trapped there.

At about this stage in the planning, Virgil had stood abruptly and announced, “I have to go run around the block like, right now.”

Logan gave him an odd look. “Why?”

To which, Virgil answered, “Anxiety,” and then proceeded to go run around the block a few times. It helped; when he got back, they finished planning. And then they kept planning. They went over the plan again and again and again until Patton sent them all to bed because “tomorrow is a big day for everyone, we all gotta rest up!”

And then, all too quickly, tomorrow became today. And Virgil looked around at the others: Logan, Patton, Roman, and Janus, the four most important people in his world. 

And he said, “Ok. Let’s do this.”

\- - -

Janus took a deep breath, then stepped inside. 

Nothing had changed in the few days he’d been gone, not really. The walls were still grey. The ceiling was still made up of fiberboard tiles. The lights were still the same sterile fluorescents. But it felt different, to Janus. 

To Deceit, the headquarters was his primary base of operations. It was where every mission started, and where every mission ended. Brief, mission, debrief. Deceit always returned here. In a way, this was where Deceit himself was born. 

To Deceit, this was home.

But to Janus, the grey walls were sickly, and the fluorescent lights gave him a headache. This wasn’t a place of safety to Janus; this was a place he needed to leave behind him forever. 

Following him, Virgil stuck close to Logan. They were both loud- their breathing, their footsteps, even their very presence. So Janus scouted ahead of them, checked that the way was clear before waving the other two forward. Inside of him, the part that was Deceit stirred. Uncoiled slowly, like a snake when the sun finally shines through the clouds. And he fell easily into familiar patterns. 

They moved quickly down the long maze of hallways. At the end of each hall, Janus would pause and check around the corner, relying on Deceit’s skill to move unseen, before he would wave Virgil and Logan forward. 

They repeated this down three hallways, Janus checking for guards before waving the others forward; partway down the fourth hallway, however, Janus halted abruptly. Virgil immediately went into freak-out mode, looking around for whatever threat might have been lurking in the shadows. But there was no threat: Janus was standing in front of the door to the armory, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Deceit was practically vibrating with excitement. 

Janus glanced at Virgil.

“Thirty seconds.”

Without waiting for Virgil’s response, he stepped inside.

And it was glorious.

Even as Deceit, Janus had never cared much for guns. Sure, he was a fair shot, but he was always much more effective in close-quarters, with a knife in each hand. Plus, with knives, it was easier to conceal large quantities on one’s body, and there was the added bonus of having a blade that can be dipped in poison. That made Deceit happy. 

He swept past the gun racks toward the corner of the room that had been his. He was pleased to find it relatively untouched, Deceit’s favorite knives right where he’d left them. He gathered up his six favorites, and a pouch of throwing knives. Then a second pouch, just in case. 

It had been approximately twenty-seven seconds by that point, so he made his way back to the door; but he couldn’t help himself from glancing over toward the corner of the room where the Duke’s weapons were kept.

It was empty. 

Janus shut the door behind him as he stepped out into the hallways. Deceit’s joy at finally being armed appropriately was tempered by the unease that curled in his stomach. Virgil made a noise of impatience.

“Can we go?”

Janus nodded, and led them onward. 

Around the corner at the end of the fourth hallway, Janus could see the door to the server room, and the two guards stationed in front of it. He pulled back around the corner and stopped Virgil and Logan as they approached. 

“Two,” he said quietly. “Stationed.”

Virgil nodded. This had been a likely possibility. He slipped off his backpack and dug out what Janus had at first thought was just a jumble of cables and wheels but was, apparently, a robot. 

(Its name, because according to Patton all of Virgil’s robots had names, was Spooky Trash Bot Jr. He still was not quite clear on what had happened to Spooky Trash Bot Sr., but they had all gotten very somber when he’d asked.)

Virgil set Spooky Trash Bot Jr. on the ground, and pulled out its remote controller. He cast Janus a glance. Janus nodded. The three of them ducked back around the corner where they had come from, and Virgil sent the little mess of cables, motors, and blinking lights to roll off in the opposite direction. Once it was far enough away from them, Virgil flipped a switch on his controller. Instantly, “the Bare Necessities” started echoing down the empty hall, emanating from a speaker buried somewhere amid the mass of cables on the tiny robot’s back. Two sets of footsteps charged down the hall toward the sound. Away from them.

“Go,” Janus hissed, once he was sure the guards were far enough away. Virgil moved first this time, pulling Logan along with him. Janus took up the rear. 

The server room door was locked, but only for the approximately fourteen seconds it took for Janus to get out his lockpick set and pick it open. They ducked inside. Janus left the door cracked behind them, and stayed there to keep an eye on the hallway.

“Ok, Lo, it’s all you,” Virgil said. Logan was already pulling a laptop out of his own backpack. He hooked the computer up to one of the server towers, and began typing away at an almost inhuman speed. Janus kept his attention focused on the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Virgil fidgeting. If Janus wasn’t mostly Deceit right now, he’d probably be fidgeting, too. 

“Everything good in there, kiddos?” Patton’s voice was too loud in his ear. Janus winced and tried to adjust the earbud’s position. 

“Yeah, so far,” Virgil answered quietly. Next to him, the screen reflected onto Logan’s glasses blinked red a few times. Janus glanced over just in time to see the light turn green. Logan looked to Virgil.

“I’m in.”

“Did he say it?” That was Roman. Janus was starting to wish they hadn’t opted to use radios, even if it _was_ a good idea to be able to communicate with the eyes outside. “I told him to say that!”

“Roman, shut up,” Virgil snapped. 

Whatever Roman said in response, Janus didn’t hear. He was focused on another, more important sound: footsteps. 

“Virgil,” he said urgently. Virgil met his eye, and Janus glanced at the door. Virgil got his meaning immediately. 

“Shit.” He looked to Logan. “How much longer.”

“Two to three minutes.”

“Too long.”

“I cannot make it download any faster, Virgil. Not if we want to ensure we get everything we need.”

Janus could hear orders being given down the hall. Groups were being sent to patrol the major rooms of the headquarters. He picked out one order in particular: “And you two, secure the server room.”

Janus relayed this to Virgil. Then, his mind supplied a memory.

“Virgil. Charlie Dufort. Tenth grade.” 

Virgil looked confused for a moment. Then, understanding washed over his features, and he actually grinned. He came over to the door and took up his position. Janus watched the hall intently. 

A group of armed guards appeared from around the corner. Most of them passed the door without even a glance, but two peeled off to approach the server room.

And then they just… posted up in front of the door. Didn’t even check inside. In the back of his mind, Deceit scoffed. Fucking amateurs. 

Janus signaled to Virgil. Virgil nodded. Janus tapped a knife against the metal of the closest server rack, loudly. Through the crack in the door, he saw them both startle, and turn toward the door. One of them reached for the door handle. 

Janus struck like a coiled snake. He swung the door open, ramming it directly into the guard’s nose. The man let out a yelp of pain, but did not have time for any other reactions before Virgil grabbed him and dragged him into the server room. 

The second guard at least had the time to get his gun out of its holster before Janus got to him. But a quick flash of Janus’ knife sent the gun clattering across the concrete floor. The guard’s hand went for a different gun, but by that time, Janus was close enough to catch his wrist and keep the hand trapped there on the grip of the holstered gun. Janus had enough momentum to slam the guy into the wall behind him, and in that same moment, he jammed his fist into the guard’s solar plexus. He doubled over with a gasp and, oh, how convenient that his face was suddenly just close enough for Janus to strike with his knee. 

The guy dropped like a sack of potatoes. Janus dragged his unconscious body into the server room, where Virgil was standing over his own unconscious guard. He was frowning at the split skin across his right knuckles. Behind him, Logan almost looked like he was trying desperately to sink into one of the server towers. 

“You forget how to throw a punch?” Janus teased. He received a glare from Virgil for his trouble. 

“Shut up, it’s been like, five years.”

Logan seemed to have recovered enough to say, “But you’ve been out of the army for seven-”

The conversation ended abruptly when Logan’s computer dinged. 

“Ah. The download is finished.” Logan quickly unplugged the laptop and shoved it in his bag. 

“Good, let’s fucking go.”

Janus could not agree more. He looked out into the empty hall, then stepped out and beckoned for the other two to follow. Virgil shut the server room door behind him.

They had one more stop to make. And it was in the direction the other patrols had gone. Janus waved Virgil and Logan against the wall so he could take up a scout position. He moved down the hallway like a shadow- around the corner, another pair of guards was emerging from a room and continuing their patrol down the hall. When they were out of sight, Janus waved the other two forward. 

“Hey kiddos, don’t want to bother you,” Patton’s voice in his ear made him flinch. Again. “But there’s some folks out here who’re going in where you guys did. Just make sure you’re being careful, ok?”

“Thanks, Pat,” Virgil whispered back. 

At the same time, Janus felt a chill down the back of his neck. On instinct, he grabbed Logan and dragged him back around the corner. A gunshot rang out; a hole appeared in the wall where Logan’s head had just been. Virgil cursed, and ducked around the corner with them. 

Logan stumbled. Janus steadied him with one hand, while his eyes darted around to locate the shooter. From the angle of impact and the confines of the hallway… there! Tucked back around the corner, in the mouth of another branching hallway. 35 feet away, no cover. They’d have to go around. Unless…

“Give me a boost.”

“What?” Virgil looked at him incredulously. Janus gestured at the air vent above them.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Another gunshot rang out. The bullet ricocheted across the ground and left scrapes in the concrete. Janus gestured with more urgency.

“Ugh, fine.”

Using the wall for balance, Virgil braced himself while Janus used him as a ladder. Deftly, he unscrewed the vent grille with the blade of his knife, and handed it down to Logan. Then he hauled himself up into the air duct.

Fuck, that hurt. He must have torn open the wounds on his side again. But Deceit was no stranger to pain- he swept it all up and buried it beneath the drive to finish his mission. He dragged himself through the air vent. 

The shooter fired twice more before Janus reached her. Virgil must have been drawing her fire, keeping her focused down the hall. She was right under the air vent. Perfect. He kicked out the grille and dropped right on top of her. The gun went skidding away. She was going to have an awful headache when she woke up later. 

“Come on,” Janus called down the hall. Someone definitely heard the gunshots. This was no longer about stealth. Now was the time for speed.

Virgil and Logan came around the corner and they regrouped. Logan was only shaking slightly, which Janus had to give him credit for. Janus led them in a beeline for the lab; though he heard shouting a few halls over, their way to the lab was clear. Janus ushered the other two inside, and shut the door behind them.

The lab was quiet. It was unsettling. Janus pushed away his discomfort, ignored the way Logan and Virgil were looking around with wide eyes, and focused on the mission.

Focus, dammit. 

Janus moved across the room, pointedly avoiding looking at the operating table that sat in the center, illuminated by a hanging lamp that looked straight out of a bad spy movie’s token interrogation scene. It tried to draw his gaze, tried to fill his limbs with the weight of dread. But he gave it a wide berth. 

_Focus_.

The files were where they usually were, locked in the bottom drawer of the desk where the program head usually sat and took notes. Sat and _watched_. 

Virgil had to pick the lock because Janus’ hands were shaking too much. They stored the files safely in Logan’s backpack.

“Ok, we have what we need,” Virgil said. Both he and Logan looked almost as jumpy as Janus felt. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Janus was about to agree when Deceit’s instincts suddenly screamed “danger!” He turned sharply, and his shoulder exploded in pain. A shirken had embedded itself just under the joint. 

“Go!” Janus shouted to Virgil. “Go, get out!”

Where was he? Janus looked about frantically. Then, he looked up. 

While the rest of the headquarters had been outfitted with fiberboard ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights, in the lab the ceiling had been left open to the rest of the industrial warehouse. Beams, exposed wires, and copper pipes criss crossed about, thrown into shadow by the harsh yellow lights than hung off them to light the lab. 

He was up there. 

Virgil and Logan still hadn’t moved. Virgil opened his mouth, but Janus shoved him back before he could speak. Another shuriken hit the ground between them. Janus drew a knife and met Virgil’s eye. 

“I’ll catch up. You need to get him out safely,” he said, with a glance toward Logan. Virgil looked like he wanted to protest. Above them, the worn metal of an old pipe groaned. Janus turned and threw his knife. There was a clattering sound, then, about fifteen feet away, the Duke’s morningstar crashed to the ground, followed moments later by the Duke himself. 

Deceit didn’t hesitate this time. He moved while the Duke was still scrambling to his feet. Dimly, Janus noted Virgil and Logan vanish through the door; but all of Deceit’s focus was on the Duke. 

He collided with the Duke, throwing him off balance again. But the Duke had the size advantage, and his injuries did not, to Janus’ knowledge, extend beyond the throwing knife buried in his thigh. The Duke stumbled back but did not fall. His arms closed around Janus’ hips, dragging him back with him. Janus tried to squirm free from the clinch, but he had no leverage. The Duke spun and hefted Janus like a shot-put; Janus colluded with the metal edge of the operating table. He just managed to shake off the nausea in time to dive out of the way of an incoming shuriken.

“You run too much,” the Duke whined. He sounded like a child bemoaning being told it was time for bed. “You’re no fun.”

Janus moved in a wide circle around the Duke, putting himself back in the path to the door. Virgil and Logan needed time to get out. 

“Excuse me if I don’t much enjoy your brand of fun,” he replied curtly. The Duke looked almost offended. He leaned over to pick up the fallen morningstar, and swung it up to rest on his shoulder. 

“Hm. What a shame. Pretty face like you? We could’ve had fun together.”

Deceit was confused. Janus didn’t have time to wonder why; the Duke charged, and swung his weapon in a wide arc. Janus ducked under the attack and moved in close, where a club-like weapon was ineffective. 

The Duke tried to draw back, to gain enough space to swing again, but Janus’ knife was faster. The blade bit across the exposed flesh of the Duke’s wrist, but caught on the leather of his sleeve. The Duke grabbed for him. Janus recoiled in time. 

The Duke swung again, and Janus ducked again. Bad move. The angle of the swing changed abruptly, clearly anticipating his movements, and Janus jerked back. The weapon swung past the tip of his nose, and the breeze ruffled his hair. He stumbled backwards, off-balanced, and threw the knife in his hand. 

His depth perception was off. The Duke easily knocked the blade away with his morningstar. Janus threw a second, adjusting his aim in the same instant. It hit; the Duke recoiled with a snarl. Janus circled around him and put the table between them.

“I take it back, maybe you are a bit of fun,” the Duke said. He paused to wrench the knife out from his shoulder with a frown. Deceit knew that expression. That was his ‘I’m done fucking around’ expression. Janus drew another knife. 

He was expecting many things. For the Duke to throw his morningstar was not one of them. Janus dove to the side to avoid it. The Duke barreled into him, a full-bodied tackle that knocked him to the ground. The Duke’s full weight fell on top of him; his bruised ribs ached in protest. He tried to scramble out from under the weight, but he froze when he felt hands close around his throat. 

“I don’t know who you are or what you did to earn this, pal, but it’s not the worst way to go,” the Duke grinned down at him.

“It’s _me,_ ” Janus choked out past the building pressure across his throat. “You know me.” 

“Hm, can’t say I do, bucko. I’d remember someone with your dashing good looks.”

His vision was starting to blur. He couldn’t reach any of his knives. The Duke had him pinned. Nowhere to go. Panic welled up in his chest as he clawed at the Duke’s fingers. 

“Remus,” Janus gasped. “ _Please._ ”

The Duke’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Then, he slumped forward. The pressure on Janus’ throat eased. Janus glanced up to see Virgil standing over them, with the Duke’s morningstar in his hands and a wild look in his eyes. The Duke crumpled to the floor next to Janus in an unconscious heap. 

“You came back,” Janus rasped, throat dry. Virgil dropped the weapon. It hit the ground with a metallic thunk. Then, he knelt down beside Janus and helped him sit up. 

“Of course I did, Janus,” Virgil said gently. “I told you. I won’t abandon you again.” 

\- - -

Virgil and Janus managed to get Remus out, between the two of them. Logan and Patton had rigged up the “escape distraction” while they waited, which supposedly consisted of many more tiny robots. Janus had really only understood half the plan when it was made. But now he was too exhausted to care. 

The fact that Patton drove like a maniac was, frankly, unexpected. That he could make such sharp turns in a minivan was kind of terrifying. In the backseat, Roman clung protectively to his brother, while Janus feared for all their lives. Neither Logan nor Virgil seemed even remotely bothered. They made it back to the house all in one piece, by some miracle. 

Nobody talked much, after that. The enormity of what they had done had finally seemed to settle over everyone, Janus included. There were a few “are you alright”s exchanged. Fond looks, smiles. A quiet “I can’t believe we just did that!” from Patton. 

Roman was too busy sitting beside where Remus lay on the couch, watching him like he expected his brother to vanish into thin air, to contribute anything to the conversation. 

What Janus had been most worried about following their little escapade was retaliation. But he shouldn’t have worried. Thomas, whoever he was, was _good_. Within two hours of Logan sending him everything gathered from the Project headquarters, the whole world knew. It was “trending”, whatever that meant. Janus would be impressed later- the second Patton was done treating his wounds, he was out for the night, and the better part of the next day as well. 

Project Imagination was openly and viciously disbanded within three days of being made public. Apparently all the top investigative journalists latched onto the story after the Project files showed up anonymously in their e-mail inboxes (another point in Thomas’ favor.) 

The U.S. government offered very large sums of money to both Janus and Remus after the fact. “Reparations,” they said. What they really meant was “please don’t sue us to hell and back.” It kind of made Janus want to laugh and then punch something, but he took it. What else was he supposed to do? 

Remus woke up, suddenly and violently, the morning after their assault on the headquarters. It wasn’t pretty. But nobody had expected it to be. Things weren’t going to be pretty for a long time, if ever. Janus knew this. Virgil, Logan, and Patton knew this. Roman knew this, even if he didn’t want to admit it. And in time, Remus would come to know this as well. 

But it was ok. Because they were _out_. It was over. 

They could both rest now.

\- - -

He had been unmade. 

He was Janus. Then he was Deceit. Now he was both. 

He didn’t know if he would ever be fully and completely Janus again, and he was certain he would never be the same version of Janus that he was before all this. Too much had happened, and all that was a part of him now. It was a part of him he had to carry forward. 

And yes, he could mourn the person he used to be. He could- and he would. And he could be angry; long after the dust settled and Project Imagination was no more than a smudge in the history books, he could still be angry. And, it was likely he would. 

But in the end, the person he was would stay gone. And the person he was now? Well, it was a bit of Janus, and bit of Deceit, and a bit of whatever would come after.

And this, Janus could accept. 

And he was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he would be happy again. It was a long road before him, but in knocking on Virgil’s door that night, he had already taken the first step. 

There was solace in knowing he would not have to walk this road alone.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all, folks!
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who has stuck through this story to the end. Your comments and kudos mean the world to me. So again, thank you! 
> 
> The main story is over, but I'm not done writing for this 'verse. I have a few one-shots planned. Some vignettes of the aftermath and the healing, scenes written from the other characters' points of view, and perhaps some bonus scenes I wanted to do but couldn't quite find the right place for in the narrative. So stick around, there will be more. 
> 
> Additionally, I would LOVE to take requests or prompts for this 'verse! If there's anything y'all want to see, drop it in the comments or hit me up on tumblr @threecrowsinatrenchcoat, and more than likely, I'll write it! 
> 
> Fun fact: Spooky Trash Bot is, in fact, a real robot that exists. He is made of cardboard and syringes. I made him for my Intro to Robotics class, and Mia named him. He deserved a cameo. 
> 
> Title is from "Into the Unknown" by the Blasting Company, from Janus' playlists.
> 
> Edit: did my auditory processing issues do me dirty on the title? It sure did, turns out I've been mishearing this song lyric as "sing" instead of "dancing" ahaha. I've updated the title accordingly.


End file.
